


What the Ocean Keeps

by AwayLaughing



Category: Mushishi
Genre: Gen, Non Graphic Death, Yuletide 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/pseuds/AwayLaughing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adashino has a bad habit of sending Ginko letters. This one though, catches his eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Ocean Keeps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cafecliche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafecliche/gifts).



_People who live next to the ocean know a common truth – water is the source of life and the end of it. The ocean gives fish, rivers give drinking water and lakes can be transformed into rice paddies. At the same time, rivers flood and rice paddies can dry up. The most common end though, is the ocean and her temper._

 

_After all, the ocean keeps what she takes._

 

The first case is brought to Adashino's attention just as the snow melt from the mountains is starting to flood the rivers and streams which threaded through the village and the nearby lands. It is a stormy afternoon when frantic knocking on his door roused him from a letter he is trying, and failing, to compose to one enigmatic mushishi.

 

Little Kiko-chan is on the other side of the door, her hair plastered to her head by rain and her thin kimono soaked. Kiko-chan is, like most of the children in the village, a fisherman's child, and rarely bothered him. Now, she is flustered and sobbing even as he knelt down to her level.

 

“Kiko-chan,” he says, “what are you doing out at this hour? Shouldn't you be helping your mother mend the nets? Why don't you come in and dry off -”

 

“N-no sensei,” she says surprising him by interrupting, “nee-sama is sick, you need to come now. She can't breath!”

 

It takes Adashino less than a minute to get his bag and get out the door. Kiko-chan drags him bodily down the hill toward the small hut her family lives in. Her mother greets them at the door, wringing her kimono with obvious worry, tear tracks drying on her face.

 

“Thank you for coming sensei,” she says, leading him to the cot where her eldest daughter is laying. Yui's father sits with her, propping her up so she can cough without choking, and Adashino blinks when after one bout she coughs up clear liquid.

 

Water.

 

“Has Yui-chan been swimming lately?” is his first question as he goes about his usual business. It's unlikely this is just a case of breathing in water, but one can hope. She is running the slightest of fevers and her eyes are unfocused, but the real problem is the wet sound in her lungs. Too much liquid for no reason he can find – she is drowning from the inside.

 

“No,” her mother says, “but she's been trying, ever since the fever started two days ago.”

 

“Did the fever come before the coughing?” he asks, wincing as Yui spits out another lungful of water, panting for air.

 

“No, they both started at the same time,” she says. “She woke up with both two days past.”

 

It isn't normal, any of it, but he left after an hour, promising to return with help.

 

A week later two boys and an older lady are all struck by the same ailment, and Yui-chan is missing. That night Adashino looks down at his half finished letter and throws it in his fire. Pulling out a new piece of paper he doesn't stop to think about how to lure Ginko back for a few more days, he simply writes a single kanji and sets it out to dry.

 

* * *

 

The letter comes to Ginko as he is passing through a moderately sized village. The post master finds him as he is preparing to cross the very bridge which brought Ginko to them in the first place.

 

“Ginko-san!” the elderly man cries, panting as he comes to a halt in front of Ginko. “A letter.”

 

For a brief moment, interest pierces his usual calm apathy, but it wanes rather suddenly when he spots the name on the front.

 

Adashino.

 

“Thank you,” he says to the old man, making to put it in his pack with the other letters and read it later, maybe when he needs something funny to enjoy. The old man stops him with a strange, desperate flailing kind of gesture.

 

“The runner from Nishibashi says it is urgent,” he says. Ginko pauses.

 

Adashino's letters are never important, mostly bribes to come visit that held no interest for him, or empty promises. Ginko isn't much interested in promises of any kind - those are the letters he fails to find amusing, but utter strangers have no reason to lie to him. Frowning he flicks the letter open, raising an eyebrow at the contents.

 

_Mushi._

 

Either this man is correct, it is urgent and Adashino is in some sort of trouble, or the doctor is trying a new kind of trap. Adashino is not, he doesn't think, all that clever, so option one seems more likely.

 

“Thank you,” he says again after closing the letter and sliding it into his shirt sleeve. The man droops – does he want money? - but nods.

 

“Glad to be of service,” he says, and with that he leaves Ginko to return to his warm house loving family. Ginko casts one last longing glance over the large bridge which spans the huge mountain pass, and turns, not toward the village but up the thin path which will take him to the coast.

 

* * *

 

Adashino's village is small enough that if it has a name no one cares to remember it, which is why in Ginko's mind it is exactly that; Adashino's village.

 

Though he arrives at the time of day most boats are coming in the village is subdued, only a few workers unloading meagre amounts of fish onto the docks. Adashino is there, talking with a haggard looking man who perks up when he spots Ginko. Ginko tries not to cringe, he hates the hopeful looks some give him, they are the ones who are always worst off.

 

What is worse is when Adashino gave him the same look and all but runs toward him. Right away Ginko knows something is wrong – he is flushed and breathing too hard for the short sprint and his eyes are glassy. He looks ill, is ill.

 

“I came as soon as I got the letter,” he says by way of greeting and Adashino nods, ignoring the man dogging his heels.

 

“I knew you would,” he says, “it's very bad Ginko. It's-” he is cut off by a slight cough, one which doesn't seem severe enough for the third man to go so completely pale.

 

“We'll talk inside,” Ginko says, and Adashino nods. He has never been this agreeable about anything except maybe Mushi stories and bandaging a few of Ginko's worse wounds. Ginko could almost be worried.

 

* * *

 

Ginko listens to Adashino's story with the usual outward calm, even though his mind races with possibilities. It seems fairly straight forward, up until Adashino tells him that those who get sick often disappear without a trace during the night.

 

“Yui-chan disappeared five days after I first saw her,” he says, “and her mother and sister have since fallen ill, and her mother has gone missing as have young Akio-kun, Iku-chan, Himeko-san who runs the bakery and her husband Seichi-san. Even more are sick but they were sickest and the only ones who went missing.”

 

All women and young children except the last one, Ginko notes. That is likely important.

 

“Are you saying you've lost six patients?” he says, watching to see how Adashino reacts. If it is a mushi it will be easier to figure out which if it changes the people themselves. “That's not very responsible Adashino.” He is disappointed when the doctor scowls at him instead of doing something more odd. The effect is ruined further by the other man's overly wet cough. “And you've gone and caught this too – very irresponsible.”

 

Adashino gives him a glare that is wounded enough Ginko is forced to pull out a cigarette to cover his sudden case of nervous regret. Obviously Adashino is not in the joking mood.

 

“Actually, maybe I can take that back. I guess you're not so irresponsible,” he says after a few puffs, “now I can just examine you instead of walking all the way next door.”

 

Adashino is still glaring at him, but he does permit Ginko's poking and prodding and answers his questions without doing much more than pouting at him.

 

“Other than the obvious,” Ginko says, sitting back down, “are there any other effects you've only noticed now that you're sick too?”

 

“I...really want to go swimming,” Adashino says after a brief moment. “It's worst at moonrise.”

 

“Hng,” Ginko says, lighting up another cigarette.

 

“Does that help?”

 

“Hng.”

 

* * *

  

Night comes upon the village in the same way it comes up on every village, silent but obvious. All the more obvious is the tension in the village, the fear the villagers have that they would turn around again and find another son or daughter or wife is missing.

 

Ginko sits himself down on the pier just as night falls, Adashino sitting nervously next to him. Ginko had spent most of dinner going over Adashino's collection of oddities just to make sure nothing there caused this. Naturally, it's not that easy.

 

As the sun sets and the moon starts to rise Adashino starts to twitch, small movements which edge him closer to the water. Ginko ignores him – he'll stop him before he does any real damage – instead focusing on the sound coming from the water.

 

Voices, almost. Or an echo of a voice, and sometimes he think he spots faces in the foam decorating the waves.

 

“I should go,” Adashino says rather abruptly when the moon – a blue moon – is hanging low and the tide is high.

 

“Go where?”

 

“I...” Adashino falters, and Ginko turns to look at him. He's sweating, which is a new development, so much his hair is dripping with water. Ginko sniffs. He smells only sea water, nothing to indicate it's a human making all this water.

 

“Ah,” he says, startling Adashino.

 

“Ah what?”

 

“You should go for a swim,” Ginko tells him. Adashino pins him with a _what are you talking about you crazy bastard_ look. He gets that a lot. “You'll feel better. Trust me.” Adashino hesitates and Ginko feels almost a little hurt. They'd dealt with one another enough, Adashino _should_ trust him. He's interrupted by that thought by a young boy in the distance. He's walking in a strange, jolting way, and as he gets closer Adashino give a yelp and stands.

 

“That's Hiro-kun,” he says, “he's been sick five days.”

 

Seven was the magic number to this illness – those who were ill a full week disappeared without a trace. Or at least, some had.

 

“Did anything strange happen before this first showed up?” Ginko asks Adashino, stopping him from going to the boy. Adashino shakes his head.

 

“There have been a lot of storms this spring, but other than that no.”

 

Ginko hums, watching as another face is painted in the sea foam.

 

“You really should go for a swim with Hiro,” he says, and without waiting for Adashino to argue chucks his acquaintance off the pier. Hiro dives in after him without so much as sparing Ginko a glance. It takes a moment, but Adashino resurfaces sputtering, and Ginko watches as a tiny blue mushi slides out of his mouth into the ocean. Hiro has a similar mushi, his is a little larger though.

 

“Wha-” Adashino gasps as he hauls himself and Hiro-kun back onto the pier.  
  


“I'll explain in the morning,” Ginko says, “first we should cure the rest of your patients.”

 

Adashino must be back to normal because he looks ready to argue when a very tiny old lady shuffles past them, coughing hard. Like Hiro-kun she dives into the water fully clothed – unlike Hiro she does not come back up. As she hits the water she changes, body melting into the very sea foam and water. Adashino gapes while Hiro screeches in surprise.

 

So much for explaining in the morning, Ginko thinks as several people react to the scream.

 

“Your mushi problem can be fixed by exposing them to salt water,” he tells the crowd rushing toward him, “and you'll want to do it quickly.”

 

As people rush to go collect their parents or siblings or children Adashino drags him a slight way away from the pier.

 

“Is that what happened to Yui-chan?”

 

“Yes,” Ginko says. “The mushi is _umiminawa_ ,” he explains. “Sea foam mushi. My best guess is one of your storms caused high waves which stranded them on land. They can't survive out of the ocean for very long at so they latched on to near by sources of salt water. They must have washed up very high to go for humans instead of the ocean. They're not good at moving out of water you see. It's why none of the fishermen showed signs of illness though - all that salt spray from fishing would have coaxed out any mushi they did carry.”

 

Adashino runs a hand through his hair. “That makes sense but...can – can we get the ones who – you know – can we get them back?”

 

Ginko shakes his head, watching as the man from earlier slides the last of his family into the water. It's pure luck, he thinks, that she doesn't leave him like all her sister and mother did. Judging by the size of her mushi, it was a close thing.

 

“You've lived here for years,” Ginko says, “you know the ocean doesn't give back it's spoils.”

 

Adashino winces, refusing to watch as another person – a little boy – rejoins the sea instead of getting cured.

 

“I'll probably have to leave,” Ginko says, eyeing the upset mother and angry father of the boy. “For a few years at least.”

 

“I might have to join you,” Adashino says. Ginko snorts.

 

“Not on your life,” he says. Adashino sputters in outrage and Ginko shrugs. “Just blame it on my weird mushishi ways if they try to lynch you,” he says.

 

“Very comforting,” Adashino mutters before turning on his heel. “You can spend the night at my house and flee for the hills early in the morning,” he says, speaking over his shoulder, “I'll go be a _proper_ doctor.”

 

Ginko says nothing, just watches him go. His pack is still on his back and there's nothing at Adashino's house of his. For people like him houses are more dangerous than foam-making mushi. They represent something that, if he's not careful, he may some day try and get for himself.

 

So he doesn't take Adashino up on his offer, just slips out of town and leaves the people there to his grieving and celebrating.

 

It's what he does.

 

* * *

  
The sun rises on a little village with a name no one can be bothered to remember. The people there are sad, dressed in black to remember those they've lost, but are less tense than they've been in weeks. A doctor sits in his study sipping a cup of tea and trying to compose a letter he can only assume will never be read. A little girl sits with her father recalling stories of her beloved mother and sister as they work to fix his fishing nets. A young man opens his parent's bakery for the first time since he lost them, and a pretty young woman comes down from the hills with a basket full of flowers for a baby brother who will never grow.

 

Higher in the hills than that young woman ventured a strange man with silver hair sits at a camp fire. He's smoking a cigarette and leaning against a rock. There's a letter in his hand, an old one which has been opened and close many times before. Mushi dance in front of him though he doesn't pay them much mind, instead focusing on the arrangment of words from one Adashino.

 

Adashino really is a funny man, Ginko thinks as he puts the letter away after coming to the end. The mushishi is rather happy, privately, that though the ocean took many from that little village, the doctor was not one of them.

 

After all, who would send him ridiculous letters if the other man turned to sea foam? That thought follows Ginko as he stands shooing a mushi from his nose and heading back toward the village he got the summons. He really, really wants to see what's on the other side of the bridge. Above him the sun climbs higher in it's perch, lighting up lush green and promising a beautiful day for a walk in the mountains.

 

It's one promise Ginko can appreciate.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [What the Ocean Keeps by AwayLaughing [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13138485) by [Rhea314 (Rhea)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Rhea314)




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